


The Last Scoop of Peanut Butter Ice Cream

by Bubblebirdie



Series: AoS 2020 August AUs [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Coffee Shops, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Growing Up Together, Ice Cream, Love/Hate, Peanut Butter Ice Cream, Phil's Popsicle Shop, Rivalry, peanut butter Frappuccino, rivals au, to be more specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubblebirdie/pseuds/Bubblebirdie
Summary: Elena + Bobbi + peanut butter ice cream + a lot of tension"“Did you ever think about why she makes you so angry,” Daisy left Bobbi, blinking in shock, at the table to get their pizza from the delivery guy. It took Bobbi half a slice to start talking again.“She likes pineapple on pizza.”
Relationships: Bobbi Morse/Yo Yo Rodriguez
Series: AoS 2020 August AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862377
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: AOS AU August 2020





	The Last Scoop of Peanut Butter Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> As you can probably tell by the fact that peanut butter ice cream is essentially a main character in this, I was craving it when I started writing. The thing about it is you have to be in just the right mood. Otherwise, it's too much. My favorite part to write was the parenthesis though- you'll see why :)

Bobbi Morse and Elena Rodriguez had been at each other’s throats since they met by Phil’s Popsicle Shop in pursuit of the last scoop of peanut butter ice cream. There was just a little left, and both girls had happened to notice it at the same time. It didn’t matter that neither had actually ended up with the ice cream (a lesson their parents tried and failed to teach them again… and again… and again); what happened after that was history or in other words, small-town entertainment. Where Bobbi shined in science, Elena made up for with her proclivity for math. After Bobbi beat Elena in a race, Elena dedicated the rest of her life to track and field. It was probably unethical, but a fair few amount of people bet on them in the spelling bee. A fair few amount of people were also disappointed in the end result- a tie although the smarter ones got their money’s worth.

As for the peanut butter ice cream, it was smooth and creamy without being ridiculously sweet. Phil’s Popsicle Shop was the pride and joy of River’s End which was famous for the unique take on the flavor, and every Friday, without fail (even in the middle of winter because Phil always kept some in the back for those two), the girls would race to the shop for the last scoop of peanut butter ice cream. Just speed however, wouldn’t get you anywhere though; it was more of a battle of timing- knowing exactly when the train would start across the tracks and the like.

It took until the first day of high school for the two to give up on their competition. Bobbi stared uncomfortably at the train tracks- wondering if she should cross them before the locomotive came chugging along. Elena bit her lip but stopped herself from flying out of her seat as her class came to an end. Just because they had put that particular conflict aside did not mean they were polite acquaintances by any means. The first time Elena filled Bobbi’s locker (gym locker, mind you) with shaving cream, Bobbi blinked twice and proceeded to retaliate with a series of peanut related pranks. Mixing in authority figures would take the fun out everything; besides, the burning mutual hatred transcended rules. Teachers knew them as well-behaved kids (for the most part) who worked well with others (barring each other), and they preferred to keep it that way. That had no bearing on what boundaries they were willing to cross and rules they were willing to break to ruin the other’s life. Some things were off limits (grades… that was it because grades were a whole other competition), but if Bobbi had to break into the school at midnight to hide a frog or two in Elena’s homeroom seat or Elena snuck in to hang Bobbi’s fencing equipment on the American flag in front of the school and if they happened to run into each other but look the other way before trying to thwart the other’s plan, nobody needed to know.

Unfortunately, their parents were very good friends. Not just I’m friends with you because our kids hate each other friends, but I’m friends with you because I genuinely like and enjoy your company friends. So naturally, the week before the girls went off to college, the Morse family invited the Rodriguez family over for dinner. And Elena and Bobbi spent the entire night, kicking each other under the table, and “accidentally” spilling condiments on the other person. It wasn’t until the stars were twinkling against the night, and the girls were banished to the porch, bowls of peanut butter ice cream in hand, did the tension cool for a little bit. A short truce was formed as they let the cool summer air wash over them.

“I’m sorry for whomever you hate in college,” it was a tentative olive branch.

“It’s been fun,” Bobbi chuckled, and then, extended her hand. Elena looked from her hand to her face and back to her hand again before returning to her ice cream.

“Yeah,” Bobbi rubbed her arm nervously, looking anywhere but at Elena. “but don’t worry I’ll still have time to make your life miserable over break,”

“Likewise,” two twin smiles snuck their way onto their faces and stayed there until the next day when the exchange was promptly set aside.

College was quiet, markedly less competitive (I bet you’ve never heard that one before), and a lot less peanut butter ice cream filled. Bobbi did, however, discover the joys of Golden Grahams with peanut butter because what is college for if not to consume the sugary cereals your parents never permitted you growing up. And so, what if the reason for her curiosity about the pairing stemmed from watching Elena snack on them during high school, smirking because she knew Bobbi wasn’t allowed. It was still delicious.

Still, it was odd, only getting to have (good) peanut butter ice cream over break. It was odd (even if it was more productive) not to have someone to hate 24/7. But it was nice, they supposed, in a boring way. The really pity was that Bobbi and Elena were not people who could stand for things that were “nice in a boring way”. Nobody would’ve thought the appeal of a small town was just the opposite, but it never really was about the town. It was about the banter, the burning looks (was it hate… or was it something else?) that drew them back. Bobbi still wanted to intern with Stark and get a PhD in biology. Elena still wanted to pursue a career as a professional runner- she hadn’t made it to the Olympics on her first try, but she was only 24. And Peter Maximoff himself had offered to coach her, in a year’s time, when he wasn’t so busy. Anyway, River’s End (or magnetic attraction, but whatever) was calling to them, so they answered.

Peanut butter and coffee were a heavenly combination- anyone with taste buds (who wasn’t allergic and even then) could tell you that. And in a town, such as River’s End, that took such pride in its peanut butter ice cream, it wasn’t difficult to find. Teenager and college graduates a like filtered in and out of the Lighthouse to obtain ungodly amounts of caffeine through the day- the most popular poison of late being a peanut butter Frappuccino made with ice cream from Phil’s Popsicle Shop of course. So, despite the fact that Bobbi worked there nearly every day, Elena found herself frequenting the place that combined her childhood with required caffeine intake. Daily run-ins with one’s nemesis, however, can cause one to maintain a rather annoyed state of mind leading one to retaliate in ways one normally wouldn’t when faced with an average acquaintance.

“Caffeine,” Elena muttered, stomping into the Lighthouse.

“Nice to see you too Sunshine,” Bobbi was greeted by a scowl which she responded to in kind before sliding the drink over. It took 4 feet and two sips before

“¡ _Qué mierda_!” Elena spun around, storming back up to the counter, and slamming her drink down, “Barbara what is this?”

“Your caffeine Yo-Yo,” her mouth turned up at the corners, and Elena’s nostrils flared. She took a pointed breath.

“I would like a peanut butter Frappuccino, please.”

“You are aware that your black coffee is non-refundable?”

“ _Si_.” 

“You know Frappuccinos have a ridiculous amount of sugar in them. Not exactly the smartest way to start your morning. There are so many other healthier options,” Bobbi looked down pityingly at Elena’s first coffee.

“Barbara.”

“This is going to take a minute. Go take a seat- there are other people in line,” Bobbi’s mouth had hardened into a smile far sweeter than Elena’s order. Elena stalked away, tossing her drink in the trash (and wasting perfectly good coffee) on her way to the neon chairs by the window.

Their friends who had spent four very happy complaint free (only regarding Bobbi/ Elena respectively, of course) years were now resorting to techniques they had developed in high school back when it stopped being fun, and they had memorized the rants by heart. Besides, they weren’t teenagers anymore; they had put aside petty rivalries and replaced them with friendship or at least polite acquaintance. When Daisy ran into Elena at the park, she always stopped to chat, and they occasionally went out for drinks together. Hunter sometimes snuck candy into Bobbi’s grocery bag if the blonde was having a bad day, and insisted that she come to his engagement party even if that was purely so she would bring her dad’s famous lava cake (paired with peanut butter ice cream of course). They were adults. Bobbi and Elena hadn’t seemed to get the memo though.

“She just makes me so mad,” Bobbi tightened her fist around the napkin, crumpling it further. Daisy looked up from her phone, tilting her head to gage whether this was the end of her rant.

“Did you ever think about why?”

“What?”

“Did you ever think about why she makes you so angry,” Daisy left Bobbi, blinking in shock, at the table to get their pizza from the delivery guy. It took Bobbi half a slice to start talking again.

“And she likes pineapple on pizza.”

“How the fuck do you even know that?”

Even those who hadn’t gone through the hell that was high school with Bobbi and Elena, were growing tired of the idiotic rivalry.

“Can she just not for five seconds,” Elena hissed to Piper.

“Huh?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“Whatever, you two are such useless sapphics- c’mon we’re going to be late,” Piper slid her jacket on, pulling out her phone to check the address. That shut her up for the rest of the drive.

Elena wasn’t the sort of person to ponder an idea. If she wanted to know how Bobbi would react to being pied (technically, caked) in the face on her 13th birthday, she’d pie Bobbi in the face on her birthday (with cake). She was a doer not a thinker, and while it hadn’t necessarily served her well (Bobbi bided her time until Elena’s birthday, pouring punch all over her), she’d made it to her 25th year of life relatively unscathed. So, when she heard that Bobbi was leaving, possibly forever, and her heart lurched into her throat and she was filled with an unfamiliar but overwhelming urge to cry, she headed to the coffee shop where the blonde worked. Elena wasn’t much of a reminiscer, but on the way, she was reminded of growing with Bobbi, of their rivalry that held to that day, of the animosity and tension that made the air between them crackle with electricity. She was reminded of how her heart would race and her palms would get unnaturally sweaty whenever she caught sight of her. By the time she arrived at the café, Elena had a working theory. And in typical Elena fashion, skipping the rest of the steps in the scientific method, she tested it. 

The alley next to the sunny coffee shop was dimly lit by the early evening. Elena wasn’t one to slow down, but she took a breath to watch Bobbi for a moment. Her hair tumbled down her back in a mess of gold Elena longed to run her fingers through, and her nails were painted the same chipped blue they had been in middle school. Elena’s boots clacked against the pavement alerting Bobbi to her presence; she strode up to her until they were a breath and five inches apart not breaking eye contact.

“Fancy seeing you here Yo-Yo,” her voice was breathy- breaking in the middle and sending a shiver up Elena’s spine.

“You’re the only one that still calls me that,” she licked her lips, eyes flicking from Bobbi’s baby blues to her mouth. In one short movement she bridged the distance, knotting her hands in Bobbi’s hair, cupping the back of her head, and crashing their lips together.

There are moments in one’s life when one requires peanut butter ice cream (not the good kind from Phil’s Popsicle Shop but the crappy chain store kind). The delicacy in question is often far too much to handle all at once; the flavor too overpowering to be properly delicious. However, there are times when it is needed. The flavor required to subdue another taste that lies tingling in one’s mouth- different, uncertain. Sometimes, the only way to rid yourself of it is to shove spoon-fulls of peanut butter ice cream into your mouth until you’ve finished the pint or quart and collapse on your couch in exhaustion. The uncertain taste can be many things- failure, disgust, fear, confusion; it might not even be negative to warrant such a strong combatant. Sometimes, you need machine manufactured peanut butter ice cream to smother you in its ridiculously sweet nuttiness and make you forget for a little while- give you a break before you return to dealing with life like an adult.

It was for these moments that Bobbi Morse always had a pint on hand, buried towards the bottom of her freezer because she rarely needed it. And when she dug it up to consume, she always took a few seconds in gratitude of her past-self. Right now, her stomach was twisting and turning, uncertainty and feelings long repressed trying to come to the surface, it was a nightmarish knot that she couldn’t start unraveling just yet, so she quelled it with ice cream for the time being.

Sadly, there is a point in one’s life when one’s friends are no longer aware of boundaries. A point where they make a copy of your apartment key without your permission, and then, subsequently use it to let themselves in and force you to stop wallowing and stalling and face your feelings. Don’t worry- 99% of the population (that have friends) are blessed with perfectly normal ones who do not take part in such behavior. Bobbi was part of that unlucky one percent.

“Barbara Anne Morse!”

“Are the theatrics really necessary?” She was just getting to the best part of the season too. Daisy flopped down on the bed next to her, a little out of breath, and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“Did Elena really kiss you?” Bobbi took another bite of ice cream and ignored her, pressing play. Daisy hit pause. “Bobbi,” she whined, “I did not just break into your apartment to watch the Mandalorian with you, again,” Bobbi considered her options.

“Hey, where are you?” She slowed to a jog- letting the baked floral scent of summer to hit her full force.

“I’m on a run.”

“How did it go?”

“What?” She looked up at the sky, dragging her shoe against the dirt path.

“You finally got your head out of your ass and kissed Bobbi or so I heard,” Something, she was now regretting. Impulsivity didn’t always pay off.

“I forgot how fast news travels around here,”

“She’ll come around. It’s only been a day, and this is Bobbi we’re talking about. Queen of repression, remember,” Elena ran her hand through her hair, pulling her hair tie out, letting Piper’s voice become background noise. She scanned the park- there weren’t many people out at this hour. Someone was approaching the park though. She squinted into the distance, picking up speed.

“Uh, I’m going to have to call you back later,” she slid her phone back into her pocket.

The sun bounced off her curls, blinding Elena, a soft, hopeful smile on her lips. Her eyes shone as bright as the new day fixed on her target, holding a determination unparalleled. Her skin glowed, and had Elena not spent the majority of her life believing she was the devil reincarnate, she might have mistaken her for an angel. There were only a few feet between them now, but neither could find the words to bridge the gap. Elena’s voice caught in her throat at the scene before her. And Bobbi was surveilling her shyly while trying to prevent the ice cream cone of peanut butter ice cream she was holding from melting.

“There’s only one,” she finally found her words, nodding to ice cream- no doubtedly the first scoop of peanut butter ice cream of the day.

“I thought we could share,” Elena grabbed her wrist, bringing the ice cream up to her face, and taking a lick before pretending to consider.

“I suppose… just this once,” and Elena’s hand trailed up into Bobbi’s neck, a smirk spreading across her face. Without breaking eye contact, Bobbi leaned down and took a bite from their shared cone. Elena took another lick, some of the ice cream ending up on her cheek. Bobbi’s eyes darkened, and then, just like every interaction the two had shared in their life so far- this too became a competition. By the time, Bobbi took a bite of the cone, their hands had long since grown sticky from the sugar. It was a matter who gave in first. It was a known fact that Elena was impatient. Had been her whole life. When Bobbi repeatedly one the quiet game in first grade, she nearly threw a tantrum. So, when Bobbi caught her bottom lip between her teeth and stared long and cruel at her- waiting, Elena abandoned the stupid competition, dropped the ice cream cone, and lunged for her.

She tasted like peanut butter ice cream.

(And the smarter ones- Daisy and Hunter to name a few- got their money’s worth)

**Author's Note:**

> But don't worry, the whole sharing business is just a temporary thing. Even when they're taking their kids for ice cream, years later, it will still be a competition. I hope you enjoyed <3


End file.
